


good to me (good to me)

by soundandfury (supercellbreath)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Cock Warming, Consensual Somnophilia, Creampie, Degradation, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Riding, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Somnophilia, Sub Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, They're Disgusting And In Love, Threesome - M/M/M, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercellbreath/pseuds/soundandfury
Summary: Johnny smiles, sunshine turning a little dark, his voice all low and casual and just loud enough that only Jaehyun can hear, in that way he knows turns the younger into a tripping, flustered mess. “We-ell, we’re going to go and pick Yuta up first from the studio, and then we’re going to pick up the takeout I just ordered. Andthen -” he says, his hand sneaking between the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt and jeans, fingers hot against his hip, “- we’re going to take you home and I’m gonna rail you until you forget your own name before I have to go. Sound good, baby?”
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Nakamoto Yuta/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 9
Kudos: 178





	good to me (good to me)

**Author's Note:**

> quick playlist of songs that occupied my brainspace writing this:  
>  _good to me - seventeen  
>  kiss u right now - duckwrth  
> like that - doja cat ft. gucci mane  
> crazy - got7  
> adorn - miguel  
> flower - johnny stimson_
> 
> sighs very long. don't. uh. don't look at me. this is all just established relationship porn nonsense. i just think jaehyun should get railed by his loving mean no good hot older boyfriends johnyu like the pillow princess he is. enjoy

It’s a bright sunny day outside, all blue skies and towering clouds. Sunshine streams in through glass panes and fills the hallways of the university with light, illuminating every stray dust mote and strand of hair in its wake, warming the windows and kissing Jaehyun’s bare skin with gentle heat. It’s a relief from the closed off stuffy cool of the lecture hall, and Jaehyun hums softly to himself as he walks down the corridor, half-listening to Jungwoo and Doyoung bickering good-naturedly at his side, half-lost in the din of his own thoughts. His friends are barely aware of where they’re walking to, too caught up in their animated conversation and laughter, directed only by Jaehyun’s footsteps to their destination for lunch, and so their progress is slow, the trio ambling at a lax pace down tiled floors to reach the front entrance of the building.

Light falls directly in his eyes as he steps out of the shadows, and Jaehyun squints, blinking away the glare, looking around at the view - and his feet come to a halt. “Oh my god.”

Jungwoo and Doyoung follow suit after half a moment, turning to Jaehyun with confused eyes at the sound of him, and being met with his decidedly flustered expression. 

Doyoung blinks, eyes following Jaehyun’s gaze downward to rest on a figure past the bottom of the steps, standing in the square and sticking out like a vaguely nervous, white-collared sore thumb amongst the scattered students milling around and streaming past. “Hey, isn’t that one of your sugar daddies?”

Jaehyun squawks wordlessly, elbowing a grinning Doyoung and trying to tamp down on the furious blush he can feel rising to his neck (and the warmth flushing through the rest of his body) at the sight of his eldest boyfriend. “Oh my god. I can't believe him.”

Jungwoo points out, unhelpful as usual, “Ooooh, he’s got _flowers_.” 

“ _I noticed_ ,” Jaehyun hisses, punching him in the shoulder, very ready to go hide in a corner and scream into his fists because Johnny is so hot and sweet and _embarrassing,_ holy _shit. Flowers._ He’s flying off tonight and he took the time to come pick him up, looking like a dream with a goddamn bouquet in hand, even braving being in public just for a gesture of romantic affection. Bringing flowers to his recital performances is one thing, but here - _now_ \- fuck Jaehyun wants to die, he can’t handle this, his heart is about to hammer its way out of his chest and they’re going to have to call 911 to stick it back inside. Surely Johnny’s even more embarrassed than he is, out here with his heart wrapped up and blooming for display. And Doyoung and Jungwoo are still fucking giggling at him.

A spark of hope - Johnny hasn’t looked over this way yet. “Okay, it’s not too late to just turn back now, time to take an escape route-” Jaehyun starts, before Johnny’s gaze falls on him and the older man's lips curl into a small, lopsided grin, sunlight casting his dark hair in a halo, practically making him glow. Birdsong resounds high and melodious in the distant trees. Even in battered jeans and ratty Converse and his wire-frame glasses he looks like a million bucks, a dashing K-drama star, like he’s just stepped out of one of his older sisters’ chick flicks, all long legs and sweet smile and too perfect to be real and yet also his wonderful, terrible boyfriend. 

A strangled little squeak leaves his throat. Jaehyun yearns for death. 

“Well, too late for that,” Jungwoo notes. “We’ll get lunch with you some other day, then?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun mumbles. “If I die before you guys see me again, Doyoung, you can get my Switch. Jungwoo, you get my dog and my cat.”

Jungwoo blinks. “I’ve never owned a pet in my life?” 

“Yeah, but I trust you to look after another living being more than Doyoung, so-” Jaehyun chokes out a bark of laughter as Doyoung reaches over and pinches his side, right where he’s ticklish. 

“Brat. Have fun on your date,” Doyoung snickers, sing-song, patting his back. “Try not to die before he takes you home and ravishes you, wouldn’t want you to miss out on that sugar daddy sex.”

“Thanks for nothing,” Jaehyun says, smacking both of them as they walk past him. “I take it back, I’m writing you both out of my will.”

“Go get that dick!” Jungwoo yells back up the steps at him, far-too-loudly, the pair of them cackling all the way as they stroll off down the path, leaving Jaehyun here. Stuck blushing and weak-kneed and mortified in front of the double doors, looking across the square at his boyfriend’s face.

It feels like an eternity and an instant at the same time - the process of making his way down the steps and across the cobblestone, meeting Johnny halfway, acutely aware of every pair of eyes looking at him, at the pair of them. Johnny's obviously doing his best to block them all out, shifting from foot to foot, the tips of his ears so red you could spot them from across the quad. God Jaehyun wants to punch him. On the lips. With his mouth. 

The urge only gets stronger as he comes closer and Johnny’s perfect fucking everything gets even more acutely clear to his senses, the older man extending one arm slightly out in a hesitant invitation, and Jaehyun’s a weak fucking bitch, so he does just that, kind-of entering the Zone of Hug and burrowing into Johnny's side before he even realizes it.

"Whoa, slow down, turbo," Johnny laughs, shifting his stance so he can keep standing. His strength easily matches his frame, easily holding up his boyfriend as Jaehyun winds his arms around his waist and tucks his face into the crook between neck and shoulder and just breathes. He smells like faint cologne, something woody and pine-forested, underlaid with smoke and sweat and the smell of his car seats. It’s embarrassing, how comforting it is, the way it makes his eyes slide shut and gets him nosing aside the collar of Johnny’s shirt to press against the flushed skin of his neck, feel the gentle rhythm of his pulse against his cheek. 

All of this, and Johnny just lets him, tucking one arm around Jaehyun to rest on his hip and keep him close. It’s testament to their relationship now that he’s not resisting the affection, that he’s okay with this intimacy where everyone can see, okay with letting Jaehyun melt puddle-like and stuck to him. They stay there for a moment, Jaehyun clinging to Johnny's side, the two of them in their own little bubble as the world turns around them. Eventually, he surfaces for air. 

“There you are, there's our Jaehyun," the elder coos teasingly. "I’ve got some flowers for my _favorite_ peach boy,” Johnny hums, sing-song, a twinkle in his eyes as he reaches down and cradles his jaw. The nickname makes Jaehyun want to spontaneously combust.

“Hi, Johnny-hyung,” Jaehyun mumbles, blushing so hard he swears the back of his neck is on fire. He reluctantly untangles one arm from his boyfriend and lets Johnny place the bouquet in his grasp, the sweet scent filling his lungs with each inhale, matching the sweet smile on Johnny’s face.

“Hi yourself, Jaehyunie,” Johnny smiles. There’s a small pause before he leans forward to plant a soft, warm kiss on his brow. _What the fuck that's cute_ , Jaehyun giggles distantly, most of his conscious brain taken up by trying not to curl up into a little ball of flustered human, and copious amounts of chaos and internal screaming and WARNING! SYSTEM OVERLOAD in bright red letters on some big plasma HD screen in an imaginary control center. He’s not usually one for public displays of affection like this, but apparently Johnny’s really feeling it.

“Hyung, you’re so -” Jaehyun screws his eyes shut, before shaking his head and butting it against Johnny’s shoulder to hide his loopy dimpled grin, thwacking his boyfriend on the back with the arm there. A garbled noise escapes him. “Yah. It’s only 12.”

It’s funny how it works, how Jaehyun losing his composure only serves to put Johnny more at ease, confidence blooming from his aura. The elder laughs and pats his head, cooing. “Yeah, I know, I’m your amazing super-cool boyfriend at all times of day and you love me very much. I love you too. How was your day?”

“It was okay,” Jaehyun manages to get out, feeling warm and distinctly punch-drunk and giggly. The bouquet has magnolias and pretty pink lilies and sprays of little white and blue flowers, and it smells very nice, and if Jaehyun gradually makes himself small enough he can cover his upper body with its mass so he can evaporate. “Class was fine, I managed. What’s the occasion?”

“Like I need an excuse to do something nice for you?” Johnny asks, one eyebrow sliding up in a feigned expression of mild outrage, before he lapses back into an easy smile. “Nah, but honestly, I just saw these on my way here and I thought your face when I showed up with ‘em would be funny. And I was right,” he says, letting out another peal of laughter as Jaehyun butts his head against his shoulder and hits his side a little harder. “Look, you’re being adorable even now! I should’ve recorded this, I can see the caption now. Boyfriend Can’t Handle Being Given Flowers, Resorts To Violence.”

He’s so annoying, why on earth is Jaehyun dating him. “Hyung, I seriously thought I was going to die, everyone’s looking at us,” Jaehyun retorts, betrayed by his dimples deepening. “And you showed up looking extra handsome. I’m sure there’s at least five people burning holes in my back with their eyes right now.”

It’s Johnny’s turn to wheeze a little. “Me? Handsome? Bold of you to say that, art campus heartbreaker,” he teases. “Who was it that got half the music majors confessing their love last term again?”

“Exaggerating,” Jaehyun says. It comes out a mumble. He uses his hold around Johnny’s waist to tug him along as he takes a few steps. Mercifully, his boyfriend goes with, the two of them beginning a shuffle down to the parking lot in a half-embrace, probably looking the very picture of a couple sickeningly in love.

“Hey, ‘m just telling the truth like it is,” Johnny replies, sliding his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a grin. “All those confessions in vain, too, ‘cause you’re already ours.”

“And I regret that more every day,” Jaehyun says, snarky, before changing the topic. “What’s for lunch?”

A grin. “You,” Johnny says, cheerily. Jaehyun chokes on his own spit. 

“What?”

Johnny smiles, sunshine turning a little dark, his voice all low and casual and just loud enough that only Jaehyun can hear, in that way he knows turns the younger into a tripping, flustered mess. “We-ell, we’re going to go and pick Yuta up first from the studio, and then we’re going to pick up the takeout I just ordered. And _then_ -” he says, his hand sneaking between the hem of Jaehyun’s shirt and jeans, fingers hot against his hip, “- we’re going to take you home and I’m gonna rail you until you forget your own name before I have to go. Sound good, baby?”

He is saying these things in _public,_ there are _people_ around who can _hear_ him, but does Johnny care? Evidently not, today. Something about impending separation has him acting a little bold, apparently. Jaehyun just tucks his face in the bouquet and tries not to let his knees give way underneath him mid-walk. 

“...Sounds good, John,” he mumbles quietly. The noise he lets out when Johnny leans over and pecks his ear is ungodly.

-

A typical weekday goes a little something like this: Yuta and Johnny zip off to work, Jaehyun goes to classes and does his homework and gets in his hours in the practice room, then they all come back home at varying times of the afternoon and evening for dinner together. This, of course, means gaps of time in between each other’s arrivals home where it’s just one or two of them in the apartment, and they all have different ways of filling that personal time.

Jaehyun’s idea of unwinding post-lecture is to take a nice long nap on the couch until it’s time to get up for dinner, or lose himself thoroughly in Netflix. Johnny’s idea of unwinding post-work is to cook dinner himself, or to hover over Jaehyun’s shoulder and distract him thoroughly. Yuta’s idea of unwinding post-work is to either play video games, go watch anime on the living room TV, or fuck Jaehyun into a gasping oversensitized puddle of sweat and tears.

Johnny’s off on a trip, so it’s just Jaehyun and Yuta at home, and today’s a third option kinda day for Yuta. Jaehyun never knows these things until he’s getting jumped, unfortunately. Which is why instead of cooking dinner like he wants because he’s hungry, or taking a nap like he wants because he’s tired, he’s in this situation.

“H-hyung,” Jaehyun gasps, heaving for breath, “Hhh- Yuta, Yuta, h-hyung, wanna, wanna come-”

“What did we say about begging, Jaehyun-ah?” 

Jaehyun hiccups, squirming, fighting to string words together into coherency when the words are all melting together with each passing second. “G-good boys, good boys don’t, beg - ah - good boys ask ni - nice- _ly!_ ” He squeaks on the last syllable, pitch cracking high for a moment as Yuta nonchalantly flicks the dial on the remote up to maximum, the faint buzzing abruptly spiking in volume. Jaehyun lets out the most tortured little sob, cock jerking against his tummy and dripping white, thighs tensing up and pressing together, toes curling, fingernails leaving little half-moons in the skin of his palms, arms straining where they’re tied behind his back. The rope’s probably wearing away at the already threadbare sleeves of his shirt, but it’s not like Jaehyun can really focus on that right now, stripped naked from the waist down, shirt rucked up past his chest, unravelling on the couch.

“That’s right,” Yuta coos, leaning over and running his fingers through Jaehyun’s hair, delighting in the way that Jaehyun melts at the contact, pressing up against his palm and nuzzling, breathing uneven and littered with choked whines and desperate noises. “Good boys ask nicely for permission. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Jaehyun nods sluggishly, dazed and floaty, trembling from head to toe, “M’ good, mmm’. Hhhhh.” He gives a ragged breath. “I. M’ your good boy - please can I can I - I’ve, I-I’ve been so good -”

“You have been _very_ good. But you’re not using all your words, Jaehyunie.” Yuta keeps drawling in the most saccharine, molasses-sweet way - sugary, for sure, but dripping with something heady and dark and making Jaehyun want to melt at how it overwhelms him. “You have to tell hyung what’s wrong so hyung can do something about it, m’kay?”

“‘Kay,” Jaehyun squeaks, the noise ripped out of him. “Hyung, Y - Yuta, please, I want. Want you -” Yuta beams.

“So cute, Jaehyun-ah,” he croons, patting Jaehyun’s face, one finger tracing the wet trails down his cheeks, running along the twitching line of his jaw to make him blink slow, one after the other, eyelids a half-beat out of sync. “Can’t even talk when you’re like this. You’re just our dumb little slut, aren’t you? Open and wet and ready any time we want.”

The implicit promise in his words, the image of them cornering him at any time and fucking him till his legs give way- the mere thought makes every remaining cell in his brain combust. “M’not -” Jaehyun shudders, tries valiantly to curl up and bury his face in the cushions, but his cock betrays him, spasming and drooling harder, thighs tensing. Yuta looks positively ecstatic. 

“Aw, it’s okay baby, you don’t have to deny,” he hums as he clambers over and lifts Jaehyun up, and then settles the younger’s head down in his lap. “Hyung loves you even when you’re being a whore, you’re still our good boy. Our pretty, perfect little slut.”

In the back of Jaehyun’s mind there’s that gut-twisting sting of humiliation, but it’s nothing but a lone instrument in a symphony, foam atop the tidal wave of arousal washing over him. “Your slut,” he manages, airy, tongue like lead. “Good slut.”

“Good slut,” Yuta echoes, smile in the lilt of his voice. “And what does our good slut want, huh? Does Jaehyunie want to get eaten out? D’you want hyung to fuck you till you cry, baby?” 

Fuck, _fuck_ \- “Please,” Jaehyun gasps, “Yes please I want hyung to, _t-to_!” he breaks off into another sputtering gasp, convulsing as the little vibrator kicks up another notch against his prostate. Yuta cards his fingers through sweaty hair as Jaehyun mouths mindlessly at his thigh, drooling all over the denim, utterly strung out into a quivering little ball of nerves.

“Ah, but if you want a reward Jaehyunie’s gotta work for it,” Yuta says. There’s the heat of Yuta’s hand leaving, the sound of a zipper sliding down. Drool drips down Jaehyun’s chin, his lips already slick when the head presses against them. “Get my dick wet, baby.”

  
  


-

  
  


“Hi Johnny,” Yuta greets, bright and cheery as ever. “Our Jaehyunie really missed you today,” he says, the barest preamble before he tilts the camera down to reveal their youngest boyfriend. 

Jaehyun, silk tied round his eyes, sweaty and bitten red and naked save for a pair of briefs and the red ropes crisscrossing his wrists and keeping his arms tucked up to his chest. Laid down and pillowed on Yuta’s lap, with his dark hair splayed out in a messy halo and his mouth a perfect O around the base of Yuta’s cock, he looks utterly obscene. Johnny lets out a long whistle. "Damn."

“Look at him, he’s so open. Our perfect little slut, taking it so well,” Yuta coos, his free hand carding through the younger’s hair. “Johnny, you gotta take us along on these trips next time. Jaehyunie’s gotten too spoiled for dick. One isn’t enough to fill him up like he needs.”

“You are _unhinged_ , you know that?” Johnny says, one hand already down the front of his pants. There's the sound of a zipper. “I literally just got out of a work meeting, imagine if you’d called and I flashed Jaehyunie’s tits to all my colleagues. For shame. You’re lucky I made it back to the room or they’d all get to see him slutting it up. Let alone if you two came along with me.” He tips his head to one side, glasses sliding a little down the bridge of his nose, voice like smoke. "Whole room would get to see baby coming all over himself on the conference table."

Jaehyun makes a hitched little gurgle. Yuta beams. “Ooh, babe, your exhibitionism is showing.”

“Incorrigible,” Johnny says, laughter in his voice. “How long have you been eating his chest up, anyways? He looks straight-up mauled. Jaehyunie, baby, has Yuta been biting you too hard while I’ve been gone?”

Jaehyun would say something about how Yuta had woken him up sucking on his chest two days in a row, or how he’d cornered Jaehyun over the kitchen counter with his mouth attached insatiable like a leech to his back, or the way the indentations of his teeth have embedded themselves in every inch of bare flesh his torso has to offer. It’s a little hard to do that when he’s still drooling and stuffed with dick and his brain is all fuzzy and scrambled from arousal, though, so all he manages is a faint muffled moan, reverberating through Yuta and earning him a small jerk of his hips.

“It’s been a very healing weekend,” Yuta says, and tweaks one of Jaehyun’s nipples in lieu of an answer. They both grin in unison at the way the youngest twitches and spasms, cock jumping in his underwear, staining the white fabric. “I’ve been eating up his everything, really.”

“Oho. Would’ve thought it’d be half the other way ‘round.” Johnny drawls. “Jaehyunie, baby, isn’t your hole sore from taking it? Yuta’s been messing it up bad, hasn’t he. I bet it’ll be all sloppy by the time I make it back. Won’t even be able to tighten up on me,” he hums, low, tinny through the speakers, and yet the timbre of his voice still reaches straight through the base of Jaehyun’s spine and makes him shiver with want. "All pretty and fucked open."

“He’s been making a good effort,” Yuta says, but sighs pityingly. “You can’t even blame him for being slutty, really. He just loves getting fucked. He sucks anything right in, he’s just so needy for it.”

 _He’s_ needy for it, when Yuta’s been the one taking every second of their time alone to jump him like a man starved - Jaehyun makes a weak motion as to jerk his head backwards and let him protest but the hand still tangled in his hair catches the movement and pushes, soft, keeping him in place, shunting the cock back down his throat. He chokes. Any coherent thought floats right back into the void from whence it came. 

Yuta hums. “Did I say you could stop yet, sweetheart?” One hand goes to trace over the bump of Jaehyun’s adam’s apple, thumb pressing down mean over where the head of his cock is lodged halfway down his throat. Jaehyun whines, tears welling up behind the blindfold, rubbing his thighs together and squirming, feeling small, desperate, stupid with need. “Thought you were gonna be good for me. Johnny’s watching, are you really gonna be a dumb little whore in front of him?” 

“Nah, nah, don’t bully. Let baby talk. I wanna hear him.” Johnny says, voice something warm and husky. Yuta obliges, tugging on the roots of Jaehyun’s hair. There’s a soft, audible, slick little pop as his lips slide off the tip, and he takes a rattling, wheezy gasp of air, the hard line of Yuta’s shaft still wet against his cheek. 

“Can you breathe, Jaehyunie? All good there? Nod for me, doll.” The eldest gives an soothing hum of acknowledgement at Jaehyun’s faint nod, letting the cadence of his voice carry his intent to make up for the youngest’s sightlessness. “Good, good. So what were you gonna say, mm? B’fore Yuta was all mean ‘n interrupted you. Did you have something to tell us? ‘M all ears, baby.” 

Maybe it’s something to do with being a musician, but Jaehyun’s always extra attuned to aurals, the vocals of his boyfriends especially. They both have the sweetest, hottest voices imaginable, both carrying their own flavour. Johnny, whether crooning calm over radio frequencies or now, drawling husky and sinful with intent to pick Jaehyun apart at the seams, has a tone and timbre he associates with balmy summers, that would fit on the stage at the back of a brick-walled bar, golden and incandescent over the mic. Smoke and chocolate and honey, just further muddying the fog of Jaehyun’s brain. 

All he can manage is a wordless, wrecked noise, straining against the ropes. Johnny laughs soft and low. “Words, Jaehyunie.”

“He doesn’t have any words left in his brain, Johnny,” Yuta says, affectionate. His voice is smoother, sharper, no less sweet but Jaehyun’s always intoxicated, drowning in it, a siren’s call. Seasalt and molasses and mulled cherry wine, cinnamon and spice and everything nice. One hand slides down to cradle the youngest’s jaw, tucking his thumb into the corner of Jaehyun’s spit-slick reddened mouth. “All fucked dumb, just hyung’s wet hole now, aren’t you?” 

“That pretty little head of his gets all empty,” Johnny drawls, agreeing, nigh-conversational. Their words make Jaehyun’s head spin, all the blood in his body rushing away from his brain. “It’s cute, though, isn’t it? He’s so shy, but just turns into such a slut for it. Bend him over any which way you want and he’ll just take it, all loose. Just begging to get stuffed. Anything so long as you can get us filling you up, right, doll?” 

He feels dizzy. This is so fucking unfair, they know exactly what the hell they’re doing to him with those words, making him all blanked out and gagging for it. Jaehyun keens anyways, a hoarse cry, every nerve aching and overwhelmed and empty. He wants to sink his mouth back down on cock and let Yuta fuck the voice out of him, he wants to climb up onto someone’s lap and get stretched open til he cries, he wants to be good for them, he wants. He _wants_. 

“Hhhhh," Jaehyun croaks, squirms a little, deep voice cracking. “H-Hyung.”

Both of them always perk up instantly at the honorific. Jaehyun could whisper it in the middle of a crowded room and Johnny and Yuta would drop everything, turn towards him across any distance, gazes magnetic, tuned to his voice. It’s that sort of of attention that makes him feel pleased and fluttery and shy, feeling wanted, feeling cared for. Now’s no different. Johnny’s exhale sounds like it’s through his teeth; Yuta’s thumb traces his swollen lips, cock pulsing hot against his cheek. Jaehyun nuzzles it absentmindedly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” It’s Yuta who answers first. “What d’you need?”

“We’re right here, baby,” Johnny says, tender. 

It takes another few moments before he can string the words together in his head, grasping at frayed threads. “Wanna see. Johnny-hyung.” His tongue trips thickly over itself. “Want Yuta t’. To fuck me. Hyung watchin’.”

“Aw, doll,” Johnny coos, “You’re so cute, Jaehyunie. Yuta, babe, I think he’s being plenty good. Let him have what he wants.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think there’s room for improvement,” Yuta says, teasing, rubbing over the curve of his cupid’s bow for a moment, but he acquiesces. Jaehyun feels very much like a ragdoll, too uncoordinated and clumsy to move on his own, as Yuta pulls him up with strong arms and steady hands and rearranges him so that he’s sitting on his lap back-to-chest, cock nestled between his asscheeks. Like this, with the planes of Yuta’s chest pressed up flushed against his shoulderblades, he’s acutely aware of the ways in which his smaller boyfriend has him utterly at his mercy. All the ways in which Jaehyun is small, hot and trussed up and desperate, a little toy for his boyfriend to bend and fold and break however he wants, and Jaehyun would let him. Wouldn’t be able to stop him if he tried. 

Yuta rubs one hip gently, murmurs. “Lift your legs for me, baby.”

Jaehyun does, thighs shaky, letting calloused hands peel his sticky underwear down and off his hips to finally free his dick. Johnny lets out another long whistle. “Talk about wet. I can see you dripping from here, baby. Been waiting a while, huh?”

Jaehyun gives a tiny nod, tucking his head down enough that he can gnaw on his knuckles, pushing his thighs back together as Yuta plucks his underwear off from around his ankles and chucks it to parts unknown. His cock is drenched, now that he can focus on it, leaking so much pre-come that the insides of his thighs feel like a slip-’n-slide when he squirms and grinds down. His hole is still wet and sore from all the times earlier today, too - over the couch, the wall, the shower, Yuta’s fingers playing him till he sang again and again, Yuta’s cock sliding home till his insides molded around him, the memory of him pressed into his core. 

“God, I wish I could eat you out right now,” Johnny murmurs. 

Jaehyun could cry, he really could - he can’t just _say_ these things with no warning, when he can’t even see his face. A stuttering sob escapes him. “Hyung, I w-- m’eyes,” he breathes, and barely a moment later two hands come up cup his head, tug the silk off him and let him blink tearily at the sudden influx of light.

“Better?” Yuta asks, low. Jaehyun nods, blinking, trying to get his eyes to unglaze, his wet lashes to unstick. In front of them, he can see the laptop screen, too-bright. Johnny’s still in his office clothes, skinny black slacks and crisp white button-up and loosened tie, the long lines of his body sprawled out languid on a chair, barely-rumpled. Only his slacks are undone, where he’s got one hand on his dick, long fingers curled prettily around the head. 

Johnny smiles, lopsided. “Hey, Jay.” 

It’s enough to knock the wind right out of him again. His glasses are askew, his expression is fond, and Jaehyun wants to climb through the screen and crawl into his lap and not let him out of his clutches till they’re both passed out. Jaehyun gives a watery little hiccup. “J-Johnny-hyu-ung.”

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny says, warm. “I’m here.” 

A face presses into the nape of Jaehyun’s neck, an open mouth against his pulse point, teeth nipping at his throat just hard enough to bring forth a noise one can only describe as feral. When he twists his head back just a little, he can see Yuta’s fading silver hair, the glass-cut angles of his brow, his cheekbones. “No love for me, Jaehyunie? You’re gonna make me sad like this.”

His heart drops for a half-second, “N-no, _no_ , hyungie,” he slurs for a moment, trying to twist around in his lap to face him more, to embrace him and show him exactly how good he can be for him. 

Yuta puts a stop to it, hands gripping his waist and keeping him in place, placing a soft kiss on the shell of his ear. “I’m teasing, baby,” he says, fond. One hand works its way round Jaehyun’s front, tweaking a nipple, and the elder muffles a pleased hum into the back of the younger’s neck at how he moans at the touch. “It’s okay. You just missed Johnny so much, didn’t you.” 

“Oh, and you didn’t?” Johnny says.

“I’ve had a Jaehyun monopoly for like two days, I see this as an absolute win.” Yuta grins. The hand trails down Jaehyun’s front to graze over his cock, fingers teasing electric at the head. Johnny laughs, bright and brassy, his head tipping back in his mirth.

“Just for that, you’re gonna get it when I get back, Nakamoto.”

“Am I,” Yuta hums, low down from his diaphragm. A gentle push from him gets Jaehyun’s legs falling back open, thighs parting to let him tease at his slick hole, one finger sinking in down to the knuckle without the slightest resistance. Jaehyun’s hips jerk minutely, a tiny gasp for air. “You can certainly try, John Suh.”

“See, this kind of cocky attitude is why it’s so fucking satisfying to see you get taken down a notch. Like an open challenge. See if you can take it as good as you give.”

“Bold words from a man who cries during anniversary sex,” Yuta says. The memory rings through the fog in Jaehyun’s brain, makes a small, low giggle bubble out from his throat, and Yuta presses another kiss into his hair, works in a second, a third finger. “See, even Jaehyunie agrees.”

“This disrespect in my household shall no longer be tolerated. Meet me in the pit right now,” Johnny deadpans. “Jaehyunie can pass, he’s cute enough to get away with it.”

It’s stupid, how warm and pleased they can make him feel with just a handful of words. “M’ cute,” Jaehyun mumbles, clenching and squirming a little around Yuta, half-wanting to just hear it again.

“Yes you are,” Yuta agrees. The fingers lodged in him crook, spread apart; a trembling whine slips free from Jaehyun’s throat, showers of sparks igniting his veins from within. “Always cute.”

"Don't even need stretching, do you, baby?” Johnny muses. When Jaehyun cracks his eyes open again, Johnny’s shirt is unbuttoned further, his cheeks and ears redder and his hand lazily running up and down his dick. “Yuta really worked you over good, you’re so open for us.”

“You should’ve seen us earlier,” Yuta murmurs. “All I had to do was lift him onto the kitchen counter and he was already begging for it. Came as soon as I slid in. Our dinner nearly burned ‘cause Jaehyunie was so needy.”

He tries vainly to voice his protest at that. “Was - was- _nnnn_ -n’t!” Jaehyun gasps at a pressure brushing over his prostate, thighs twitching, drool slipping from his open lips. His brows furrow as he swallows. “My fault - hyung kept, kept teasing me, touching me a-all the t- _time-!_ ” It’s so hard to keep a sentence together when Yuta’s fingers are so deep in him, twisting delicious and mean against his walls. His cock spits out a small spurt of precome, untouched.

“Sweetheart, you’re the one who got hard from getting manhandled.” Yuta croons. His fingers always move with such impish surety, whether on bass strings or trembling twink boyfriend. “Turning all red just from our hands on you, making a mess of yourself as soon as you’re full of dick. Like our own little wind-up music box. Stick it in and twist, watch him sing.” 

There's another laugh from Johnny, sultry, crackling through the speakers. “When I get back, we should record Jaehyunie at the studio. Make some good music. Make good use of that soundproofing so doll can be noisy all he wants.”

Jaehyun can’t see Yuta’s face right now, but the dark delight in his voice conveys the smirk he’s probably wearing clear as day, “He likes being heard though. Acting all shy but you get so tight. Leave the door unlocked, open just a crack so that everyone passing by knows exactly how good you’re getting fucked, yeah?”

Their voices in a laidback volley of dirty talk, the fingers stuffed up to the last knuckle in his wet hole, the white noise of his own blood in his ears, the vision being conjured in his head - he bites down on his knuckles and grinds his hips down, helpless in the face of their combined attention, the endless waves building and building in him with no relief. Four fingers and he’s still just aching, empty, wretched with arousal. 

“Hyung,” His whining comes out broken and pitchy. “Ple- _easeeee_ . ‘Nough. I _can’t_.”

“Enough of what, baby?” A little bit of strain stains the composure in Johnny’s voice. His tongue flickers over his lips. “Ask nicely.”

“Stretched already,” Jaehyun says, and fucks his hips down for good measure. There’s a low, muffled curse from behind him. Yuta’s cock is rock-hard against his cheeks, friction and pressure and heat just so close and yet so out of reach from where it needs to be. Every time the shaft so much as grazes his perineum he nearly cries with want, tears welling up in his eyes. “M’ so e-empty, please, ple-ease, fuck me, I’ve been good, ‘m your good boy, please -”

“Jesus, baby, your _begging_ ,” Yuta says, raw. His fingers finally slip out from him with a slick noise and bone-shuddering sensation of emptiness, and the muscles of his thighs shift underneath Jaehyun as the elder reaches back to rummage around. Just a moment later there’s the pop of a cap, the slick sound of lube. “Scoot up on your knees a little for me, baby. Wanna see you ride me.”

He scrambles to do so as fast as he can with his clumsy, wire-crossed brain, trembling as his knees sink into the mattress. Two hands coming to his hips to hold him half-suspended and weightless and quivering, the heavy head of Yuta’s cock pressing up at his hole and staying there for a long, long moment. Jaehyun’s mouth waters. His thighs are shaking.

“Slut,” Johnny drawls, just the barest note of tension in his tone. "Gonna be good, Jaehyunie? Gonna eat up Yuta’s cock with your hole? Swallow him up?”

“Y-yeah,” Jaehyun pants, “yeah, I’m -” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, breath punched right out of him as Yuta grips his hips and drops him, impaling him on his cock in an instant. Every nerve in his oversensitive body sparks at once in blissful frissons of electricity, trembling, his spine arching backwards in a desperate arc, his head tipping back blindly to rest on Yuta’s shoulder, every muscle clenching down and fluttering around his cock. A guttural whimper comes out instead. He’s full, he’s full, he’s _full_.

“How’s he, Yuta,” Johnny says. “Baby all good for you?”

“Oh, he’s being absolutely perfect,” Yuta says. His voice has dropped an octave, gone all thick and heavy and gravelly with black-tar lust. “Taking me all the way like he was made for it.” He shifts his hips just the slightest fraction, and even with that tiny movement it runs through Jaehyun like a trainwreck from the inside-out, whiting out his vision for a split-second. Another garbled squeak rips free of his throat.

A low, appreciative hum from the eldest. “Sweetheart, you feeling good?”

Jaehyun nods, one lip between his teeth, not trusting himself to speak without dissolving into babbling, into whining like the needy whore they always work him into. “Mmmhmh.”

“Yeah, I hear ya.” When Jaehyun musters the muscle control to blink his eyes back open into focus, Johnny’s leaning back in his chair, the lines of his fingers splayed and curled around his cock, his eyes lidded and a faint smile curling his lips. “You think you can do what Yuta wants, baby? Fuck yourself on him?”

Can he? God, his limbs feel like jelly, half-liquefied by the sheer force of heat and electricity coursing through his body right now - but what aches harder is that coiled-up pulsing need, Yuta’s hands on him and buried inside his deepest parts, boiling away all other thoughts or unnecessary worries from his head. Just the need to be good, to be perfect for them. He gives a tenuous little nod. 

“That’s our good boy,” Johnny murmurs, utter filth, the sound lancing through to his gut and igniting as it lands. “What’re you waiting for then? Put on a show for us, doll.”

Fuck. Okay. A soft inhale. Yuta pats his thighs, rubbing in circles reassuringly, his touch an anchor as Jaehyun tries to figure out how limb coordination works again. An aborted jerk of his thighs fizzles out as the motion sets off another wave of arousal, tears welling up unbidden as he jerks a little uselessly. 

A second try goes better. Lift, and drop, the bedsprings creaking under his knees, his toes curling at the drag, his vision blurring. It’s uncoordinated and sloppy, but the telltale noises coming from behind spur him on, into that lovely animal state where his brain turns to mush. Suspended in perpetual motion, into the grind, the rhythm of rocking back and forth, working himself wrung out on cock. The fading bruises on his ass, his thighs, his hips, the lingering aches in his body, they all sing out as he grinds down wetly, bleeding in and only further feeding the high. 

Under him, there's an impatient shift of muscle. Jaehyun's breath catches in anticipation. “Fuck, baby, how’re you still so perfect,” Yuta rumbles, breath tickling his ear. 

His hands massage Jaehyun’s hips for a moment, heated, the only warning before he gets a proper grip and starts up his own rhythm and Jaehyun has to cling on for dear life. 

“Been fucking you for days, and you - take it - _so_ \- well-” Each word is punctuated by a shallow jerk of his hips as he thrusts up into Jaehyun’s clenching hole, past the sore heat of his rim, squelching. It’s in so deep, he wouldn’t be surprised if Yuta fucked up past his ribs, hit into the back of his throat. “All for us. Our perfect slut.”

“Hyung’s slut,” he chokes out, a deep whine from the center of his chest, where his heart is running paradiddles. The hours - no, really, the days of teasing and twisting him up into a little pretzel of horny stupid have him on the knife’s edge already, mindless and chasing that heat. More drool slips from the corners of his lips. “F’r you- _u-_ \- ” a voice cracking, breaking into a reedy wail like a cat in heat, and it takes a moment before Jaehyun realizes that’s him.

A breathless laugh through the speakers, teeth just a little gritted as Johnny works his hand on himself. “What happened to just watching, Yuta?”

“You try just sitting back when you’ve got Jaehyunie in your lap,” Yuta bites back, gravelly, fucking up again with a force that’s rearranging Jaehyun’s insides, making him squirm and clench down. “Close, sweetheart? Wanna come?”

"Y-yes please," Jaehyun tries his best to grind back, arching his back and chasing that perfect pleasure, like he might die without Yuta's cock in him. "Pleasepleaseplease wanna come,"

"Whore," Johnny's voice, dripping with affection. "Fuck him harder, Yuta-yah, he's asking for it so pretty. Not gonna last."

"Backseat driver," Yuta laughs, cants his hips up into his prostate and Jaehyun nearly doubles over, blind with need. A hand works up his front to pluck at his chest, teeth nipping against Jaehyun's feverish sweaty neck. "Baby's been so good for us, you deserve it all, don't you?"

Something resembling a whine of agreement leaves his throat - one that turns into a broken keen when Johnny coos out. "Only if doll comes without touching."

"And you call me mean," Yuta huffs. He makes no move to touch Jaehyun's aching cock, only continues his motions. Not that he'd need any contact to come, after a weekend of Yuta stripping him down into a naked livewire. Not like they all don't know what a slut they've made of him.

"He wasn't gonna be touching anything anyways, all tied up like that. And he can do it no sweat. Right, doll?" Nothing but nastiness dripping from Johnny's tone now, any veneer of embarrassment or hesitation left on the floor, only a breathless filthy look in his eyes. "Gonna cream your panties all messy just from getting fucked? Gonna be good and let Yuta fill you up like you deserve? Like a good little fuckdoll?" 

"Mmmhmm - " Jaehyun's going to die. Right here, delirious and wrapped around his boyfriend's cock like a sleeve, the tips of his toes and his knotted arms numb, the pit of his stomach a cauldron of heat. Breathy gasps, peeling themselves out of his throat, wet and raw. He blinks tearily, gaze glassy. “M’ gonna come - hyung - ‘m gonna -”

"That's our baby," Johnny, watching, teeth digging into his bottom lip, eyes heavy. "Come for us, Jaehyunie."

Yuta kisses his neck, drawls " _good boy_ ", and drives his hips up hard. Jaehyun heaves for breath once, and comes apart ungracefully into white noise and sparks.

Somewhere in the haze of his orgasm, his boyfriends reach their own climaxes as well. Jaehyun floats blissfully unravelled for a while, a melted cloud of emotions tethered only by Yuta holding him up and the sensation of wet warmth flooding his insides. The next time he summons enough awareness to return to gravity, the ropes are coming undone around his arms, Yuta's hands working the knots open until Jaehyun's arms fall free, flopping limply to his sides.

A kiss to his ear, hands gently massaging his wrists. "These're gonna bruise," Yuta muses, tone light. "You're too easy to leave marks on, Jaehyun-ah."

"Like a peach," Johnny hums, hoarse and sated. "Cute and fuzzy and soft. Just wanna take a bite out of 'im."

"Hyung, by the time you get back, there'll be no more of this peach left to bite," Jaehyun croaks scratchily, squirming and shuddering a little with hypersensitivity as Yuta shifts to ease his cock out of him. Cum and lube dribble out, smearing between where they were joined obscenely. Johnny, on the other end of the line, whines.

"I'll leave you a bit for a pity nibble if you're nice, Johnny," Yuta's arms are warm and strong as he shifts Jaehyun around in his lap to rest easier, Jaehyun folding into him like a sweaty, sticky puzzle piece. "Bring back nice presents and it'll be enough for a mouthful."

An exaggerated dramatic sigh, as Johnny tips his head back in his chair. "Bullying me. I'm here, being exploited by capitalism with mine heart on sleeve and mine dick in hand for my boyfriends whom I love, and they're bullying me."

Yuta hums. "It's what you deserve."

"Love you too, Johnny-hyung." Jaehyun nuzzles into Yuta's neck, feeling perfectly glowingly content, scrambled inside and out and surrounded by love. "We'll see you soon."

  
  
  


-

There’s a hotel room door hanger around his bedroom door handle when Johnny toes off his shoes and stumbles back into the apartment, a vaguely beige-y brown. They’d stolen it from some Holiday Inn in Brussels on a trip through Europe along with the complimentary slippers and soaps, a careless grab of petty souvenirs that they’ve held on to till today. _Do Not Disturb,_ it reads in clean all-caps, repeating the same in French, Spanish, German below.

There’s only one thing they use it for. An open invitation. Tired and jetlagged as he is, desire sparks in his chest. He opens the door.

The twilight hues of six AM light spill through the windows and the gauzy curtains, washing the space in china blues and moody violets, deep shadows blending everything together. There’s a single figure laid on his twin bed, tucked snugly up to his head under the duvet, dark hair peeking stark against the pillows. Johnny peels off his jacket, his socks, his pants in a haze, leaving a pile on the floor and padding soft across the room to slip under the covers and join him.

God, Jeong Jaehyun. Two years into dating and it still feels unreal, how fucking lucky he is to have both Yuta and Jaehyun in his home, in his bed. Yuta he was prepared for - could see it coming a mile away, with their long history and simmering, whispering feelings, but Jaehyun was a system shock neither of them could have ever anticipated. The mountain to Yuta’s sunlight, to Johnny’s storm. A well of gravity, pulling two satellites into the winding spiral of his orbit easier than breathing, inexorable. Their lodestar.

His hands always feel magnetized around him, drawn to the heat of his body, the solidness of his back, the soft give of his hips. All that time apart has only made the yearning worse, and now, burrowing under the covers next to him, it’s an irresistible attraction. Jaehyun’s body is turned away from the door, his back facing the end of the bed, and so when Johnny shifts closer and presses all up against him it’s chest-to-back, Johnny’s hands winding around to wind up resting at his navel.

He drinks it in. The halo of Jaehyun’s inky hair against the pillow, the curve of his ear, his eyelashes, the blooming red hickeys between the jut of his stubbly jaw and his neck. He smells like their bedsheets, like sleep, like the funky fresh green tea shampoo Yuta’s been hooked on, like faintest salt and sweat and Jaehyun. The hoodie he’s wearing is oversized, a soft white long-sleeved affair long enough to cover his hips and his bare legs, the ends of his sleeves pooling as sweater paws around his sleep-curled fingers. 

Johnny knows it well - it’s his hoodie, after all. Stolen out of his closet, evidently. A rush of heat, warmth, rosy desire blooms in the cavity of his chest, spreading outwards to scatter little sparks at his fingertips as he trails his hands down the soft plane of his stomach, sliding slow over the divots of his hips, easing in past the elastic waistband, the curve of his ass, down to secret places.

His fingers come away slick. His insides feel molten. Ahhhh, he really was waiting for him, huh.

Better not disappoint.

  
  
  
  


“Jo-ohnn-ny,” comes the gravelly voice, rough, shuddering over a thrust. “Hyung?”

The man in question hums, nosing at the back of the other’s head. “Yeah, sleepy, ‘m right here.”

“Welcome home,” Jaehyun slurs, hazy and warm. Johnny can’t help but smile helplessly, burying his mouth against his neck, rolling his hips softly just to take in the way the motion washes through the younger, full-bodied, warm and sleepy and open, fucking in deeper just to pull that raspy shuddering sigh from his lips.

“G’morning, babe. Missed me, huh,” he murmurs.

“Ye-ah,” Jaehyun sighs, breath hitching over a lazy thrust. His voice is honey, aureate, too sleep-fuzzy to put up a front, thrumming with naked affection. “Always do.”

His heart feels so full it might just spill into his lungs. “Gross,” Johnny teases.

Jaehyun turns his head and exhales right into Johnny’s face, a full puff of morning breath that has Johnny snorting and turning away to bury his nose in Jaehyun’s hair. “Oh, you brat.”

“Gross brat that you love,” Jaehyun drawls. 

“Got me there,” Johnny admits, and thrusts a little harder at that, grinning at the way the younger’s eyes cross, his body pulsing around him. “Gross, needy brat. Stealing my hoodie, waiting all wet and open in my bed for me. Begging for it.”

“ _You’re-ee_ ,” Jaehyun squirms, voice catching over a lump in his throat, over the jolt of Johnny hitting something deep and electrifying, “y-you’re the one, enjoyin’ it, don’t complain, h-hyung. S’ your present.”

“But it’s not Christmas yet. Wrong time to be getting a puppy.”

Jaehyun blinks, wonderingly, before a snort escapes him. “Wuff,” he manages. Johnny has to stifle his laughter into the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m not complaining. Was thinking about this the whole time I was there,” Johnny murmurs, each thrust landing on an offbeat, “Coming home to this. T'you both."

"Thought b- ‘bout you too - _hhh-_ ” Jaehyun clenches down and rocks his hips back, wriggles a little to arch back into Johnny’s hold, little hiccupy whines punching up and out from his throat. “There, _there-_ ”

Warm and soft and responsive and as achingly sensitive as a dream, it doesn’t take long before his noises turn strained and pitchy, the tune he makes as he gets close. Johnny’s close too, honestly - so long spent away, he wanted to take his time with this, but apparently his own desire betrays him. Nothing his deranged mind can conjure alone compares to having Jaehyun underneath him, wrapped around him, blushing and writhing and so sweetly fucked out against their rumpled sheets, drooling all over the pillows from pleasure as he gets ruined like he deserves. Rosy dawn light kisses his bruises and hickeys pink, flecks his eyes with gold, illuminates the very picture of want.

“You’re so fucking - perfect-” Johnny curls in closer, bites the junction of his shoulder, presses his fingers down a little bruising and grinds in. “Come on, come with me?”

An answering breathy keen, wordless. That’s okay. They don’t need words to understand this, joined together. Jaehyun squirms and arches back and means _like this_ , Johnny kneads his thumbs into the other’s hipbones and means _closer_ , works Jaehyun’s thigh over his arm to fold them together, fuck in deeper. Jaehyun twists round blind and needy and Johnny descends on his mouth and it’s something that doesn’t need language to be writ into them. You could pluck out Johnny’s vertebrae from his dusty desiccated skeleton a thousand years from now and each would have _Nakamoto Yuta’s_ carved into them crystal-clear, decipher the hanja for _Jeong Jaehyun_ from his marrow.

“Hyung. Love you.”

Johnny swallows up the oath where it’s dripped into his mouth, swallows up the shape of Jaehyun’s sleep-hazy smile. Works his hips in an answer. “Love you too, baby.”

“Come inside,” Jaehyun breathes, a half-sigh. Johnny can never deny him anything, so he does.

  
  
  


-

  
  


By the time Yuta pads in, flushed and basking in workout endorphins, his other two boyfriends are basking in post-orgasmic glow, content and drowsy and tangled into each other like lovers’ trees. 

Johnny stirs vaguely from the bed at the sound of Yuta’s footsteps, wiggles his eyebrows a little. He’s so goddamn stupid. Stupid and hot it hurts his feelings just looking at him after all these years. Yuta wants to eat him alive. He settles for laughing and stepping over to nuzzle his sweaty face against Johnny’s.

"Oh hello there, stranger."

"You absolute freak," Johnny greets, catching his lips and grinning open-mouthed. They break apart, unnecessarily, for air. "Abandoning the prospects of welcome-home-sex with your loving boyfriend to go for a hike at _dawn_. Disgusting. Sickening. Freakish.”

"Jaehyunie wanted to surprise you.” Yuta laughs. “And I figured I’d give you a proper present afterwards, you sad needy loser.”

"If you think I'm going to get freaky with you when you stink like this? Think again, babes," Johnny makes an exaggerated gagging noise. "Go take a shower first."

“You didn’t shower coming off the plane either, Johnny-hyung.” Jaehyun croaks, pillowed against Johnny’s bare chest dimpled and pink and wrecked. He's not gonna get his voice back for days, let alone the garden of marks blooming all over his porcelain flesh. Yuta looks forward to renewing all those bruises over the next weeks. “We all stink.”

“Hey, we stink for fun reasons. This one here,” a hand reaches up to flick at Yuta’s arm, “is gross in an entirely unsexy manner. _Nature_.”

“That’s not what you used to say in uni.” Yuta coos. “How could you forget all our fun times gone camping?”

Johnny scoffs. “I was young. Dumb. Horny. Uncaring of hygiene.”

Jaehyun pinches his nipple to make him yelp. “Stop acting like you still don’t jerk off about getting railed in the woods like an animal, hyung. You’re not special.”

Yuta leans over to smack a kiss on him for that, met with a fucked-out, sugar-sweet sigh. “Had fun, Jaehyunie?”

“Neither of you,” Jaehyun says, lovely, “Are touching me for the next month.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Yuta says, heart full and singing with it. It’s late morning and the sky is blue, the birds are singing, and the loves of his life are right here with him, all home. “Let’s get us all cleaned up.”

  
  



End file.
